


FairyTale- An Underfantasy

by Balthazarsprite



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alphys is a Gargoyle, Chara's a literal demon, Eventual GB!Skeebros, Fantasy AU, Gen, I couldn't decide whether to have Experiment Skelebros or Timid Dadster so I'm doing both, I have no idea what I'm doing, I'd appreciate suggestions on what fantasy creatures some of the minor monsters should be, It probably has idc, Lots of fantasy junk, Mettaton's a spirit-turned-shapeshifter, Monster Kid is a Wyvern, No one knows what the hell Gaster is, The Dreemurrs are Arctic Dragons, The skelebros are still skeletons, Undyne is a Water Nymph, has this been done before?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balthazarsprite/pseuds/Balthazarsprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most heroes go on adventures to Search for something.</p>
<p>But sometimes, a hero goes on an adventure because they Already Have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FairyTale- An Underfantasy

**Author's Note:**

> In which the Problem is revealed.

It’s ironic, that in fantastical worlds, the stories are so limited.

                Adventures are prompted by the same things, over and over. The search for true love, the search for honor, the search for justice, for honor, for wealth, for freedom, for thrill. For power, for forgiveness, for hope, for safety, for a purpose, for family, for friends.

                Why must it always be a _search_ for something?

                I suppose it makes sense- why else go on adventures, but to find something at the end? Yes, the joy may be in the journey, but wouldn’t that simply be the search for joy? It’s always a search.

                But then again, it does not have to be.

                Every universe, every timeline, has their own, distinct path, unique to any other. Of course, some of them differ only at one spot- a single person chose a different cereal than they did another timeline. Others can be more drastic. A war lost or won in the other, a cure found or not found, a certain rare species of algae extinct in one universe and the main intelligent life in another.

If this is true, and the existence of infinite timelines is also true, then there must be an instance where an adventure is not a search, correct?

                Yes. There is such an instance.

                This instance I am referring to is one where the main part is not played by some knight in shining armor, nor by some fantastic wizard, prince, chosen one, or unexpected hero.

                The main part is played by a small child- and “small child” is all that can be said about them. Their gender is of no importance, and neither are their features. They are a sort of Schrödinger’s hero- being at the cusp of good and evil until the box is opened. They do not Search for anything. They have no Quest.

                They go on their adventure because they Must.

                Because it has already happened countless times before.

                There’s nothing new under the sun, and this child knew it.

                The past, present, and future blended together, everything happened at once, but at the same time, not at all. The universe was created and destroyed in the same moment, and billions of trillions of eons apart. Time was weird.

                Each new Time was marked by the Point- a bed of flowers, just inside the monster territory. Each Time started this way, with the Child owning nothing but the clothes on their back, a single, sturdy stick, and a sticky cloth bandage wrapped around their head.

                They had a name, but at the same time, they had none. Or at least, not yet. It depended on what happens Next. And so, the Child assumed the Name of the Other. However, they did name each Time, to keep their mind straight.

                The Name was often logical- a human name, something nagging at the back of their head. Other times, it was more unusual. Perhaps it was some random household object, a random combination of letters, or a phonetic spelling of a sound. Some names were Not Allowed, but occasionally a name could be taken from someone met in another Time. Those Times were confusing.

                This particular Time, the Child chose their name based on one thing unusual about the Point. A large Bird, probably some type of Hawk, perched menacingly on a tree branch, glaring down at the child as if judging their actions. It must have ventured there from the Human territories, as normal animals were unheard of in the Monster Territory. How odd.

                And hence, the Child named the Time “Birdie”.

                And so, the Birdie flew.

                Straight into someone expected.

                A small flower, not unlike the ones back at the Point. The Child did not really like this Flower. They had tried to avoid it in earlier Times, but it seemed that they popped up whenever the Child wandered too deep into Monster Territory, no matter in what direction. How disappointing.

                The flower smiled, and waved a deceptive leaf in greeting.

                “Howdy!” the flower said, “I’m FLOWEY! FLOWEY the FLOWER.”

                The Child always imagined that Flowey spoke his name in capital letters. It wasn’t like the inflection or tone changed in any way. The Child simply thought it fit.

                “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

                No. No they weren’t. But there wasn’t a point in saying anything about it- the Flower thought this was the first Time, while in truth it was one of many. Even those who could Remember often Forgot.

                “I guess I’ll have to help you out, won’t I?”

                The Child felt their soul leaving their body, compressing into a small heart, a small but powerful avatar. The first Time, this was frightening- the feeling of your very self being ripped from your physical form was certainly something to get used to. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) for the Child, they had plenty of time to get used to it.

                The flower explained. The Child did not listen. They already knew.

                The flower called them by the Other’s name, as always. The Child never had any idea why or how the flower knew this, as the Other itself had never given out its name- it had lied. Perhaps they Knew as the Child Knew. Possible, but unlikely.

                The flower attempted to deceive the Child. The Child already knew. The Child did not fall for the trap.

                The flower thought it a mistake. The Child was reprimanded, and given another chance. The Child avoided the trap once more.

                The flower was not happy.

                After one try, the flower gave up on the deception, declaring that the Child only wished to see the flower suffer. The Child had hear it all before.

                An unavoidable trap. A certain doom. A timely rescue.

                Same as always.

                Toriel, sweet Toriel. The motherly Arctic Dragon with the best of intentions. The Child found it ironic that the Dreemurs, a family of _Arctic_ Dragons were masters of _Fire_ magic. It was funny. In fact, it was _hilarious._ It took all of the Child’s will to hold in their laughter when a fireball sent the flower flying.

                This was good. A foolproof way to determine how a Time would play out was the Arctic-Fire Effect. The degrees of how funny the Child found the occurrence reflected directly to how many people had to die.

                This Time, no one had to die.

                Those Times were always the Child’s favorite.

                It went along like normal- Toriel guided the Child through admittedly easy puzzles. It was a sweet thought, but the Child had already memorized the solutions ages ago.

                Toriel told the Child to stay, giving them a charm to be worn around the wrist- it was a common charm used to communicate long-distance. The Child appreciated this- they never liked being isolated.

                The Child, as always, did not stay. They traversed the Ruined Forest, befriending frog monsters, shy sprites, large insects, sentient vegetables and piles of goop. Same old, same old.

                Everything was same old.

                Through the Ruined Forest, through the Snowdin Town area, through the Waterfall Zone, through the Hotland, through the Core, through the Capital to the Barrier.

                The Child told jokes with one skeleton (while the other screamed at them both), stumbled into shenanigans with a young Wyvern, fought and eventually befriended a fierce Water Nymph, boosted the confidence of the Royal Alchemist (an anxious Gargoyle who was kind enough to upgrade your Communication Charm to create a portable storage system) by playing along with the antics of their spirit-turned-shapeshifter friend, whom the Child in turn assured of their importance, confronted the Arctic Dragon king, fought the Flower Demon.

                No one died.

                They jumped back.

                They hooked up the Gargoyle and the Water Nymph, and brought the Gargoyle’s secrets to light. They confronted the King once again, but was interrupted by all he had met before- Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton…

                And Flowey.

                They absorbed the souls. 

                They revealed themselves as the Dreemurr prince.

                The Child was not surprised. They saw this play out countless times before.

                The Child died.

                But they refused.

                Asriel broke the barrier.

                The Child took on their new name.

                Frisk woke up among friends, as always.

                Asriel was nowhere to be found. As always.

                Frisk did not bother wandering the Monster Territory again. They already did in past Times- why do it again?

                Frisk and the Monsters exited Monster Territory, out from under the perpetual void that was its sky and into the world of the Humans.

                And the Birdie died.

                But

                It

                                R E F U S E D.

**Author's Note:**

> I named the timeline "Birdie" because that's what I named the Fallen Child in my first play-through of Undertale.  
> You probably have a lot of questions- that's good. Ask them! I probably won't answer them in the comments, because I'll answer them in-story later on. I will, however, use the questions you have to shape the future of the story, perhaps leaving something out I was planning on adding because no one found it interesting enough to ask about, and adding in something I was going to leave out because people were curious about it.  
> Thanks!


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